What's Worse than a Villain?
by Ally Marton
Summary: Kid Flash and the Rogues have always had a... unique hero-villain relationship. When their (emphasis on THEIR) 'baby' hero starts acting odd, and some unexpected things are found out, the Rogues take it into their head to fix it. Because NO ONE messes with THEIR Baby Flash. AU. Rated 'T' for Rogues' language, as well as mentions of abuse.
1. A Bit of a Family

**This is directly from my profile for the story idea, I guess you could say it's the original muse?**

**What's Worse than a Villain?****- Kid Flash and the Rogues have always had a... unique hero-villain relationship. When their (emphasis on THEIR) 'baby' hero starts acting odd, and some unexpected things are found out, the Rogues take it into their head to fix it. Because NO ONE messes with THEIR Baby Flash. AU. Just because your a villain doesn't make you evil, far from it. In short, Wally's abused by his dad, the bruises show and the Rogues KNOW they didn't put those there, so they investigate, find out more then they should, and take action. Even villains can be heroes.**

The first thing you should know is that the Rogues are a bit of a family. A really, really messed up and barely-hanging-by-a-thread family, but family nonetheless. Like any group of people that live together, they have some unspoken rules that exist. Trickster is not allowed near any kitchen appliances, for one. Everyone also agrees that if they are having issues dividing up the spoils of a job well done, Cold gets the last word on who gets what. And every Friday afternoon when Weather Wizard isn't incarcerated, the TV set is _his_.

It isn't necessarily a well known fact, but a very important rule they all know by heart was that the Rogues don't kill lightly, and would avoid the action at all costs. Cold in particular wanted to keep it quiet from people outside their affiliation (for the sake of their reputation among cowering civilians and other villain circles, if nothing else). It wasn't that he was squeamish about homicide- about cutting through someone or destroying what got in their way- but while he was a villain in almost every sense, he never took pleasure in robbing someone of their life. The rest of the Rogues followed this as a rule of thumb, especially after the additions of Hartley and James to their messed up fold.

They had responsible villain roles to maintain for the impressionable youngsters, after all.

With this in mind, the Rogues also look out for each other however possible. When someone is having a rough break (read: sent to jail), or needs a little favor in stealing and espionage, however grudgingly, a Rogue usually steps up to help their own. Because when the chips are down, all you have left in the world is your team.

Consequently, Baby Flash happened to fall into this rule.

Yeah, he was a pain in the butt. Yeah, his mentor was a _worse _pain in the butt. But he was just a kid, a baby, really. Heaven knows Cold and Mirror Master had flipped when they realized Flash had taken on a protégée that was probably just sliding by the age of ten (the kid had been short for his age back then). They didn't even let Trickster join until he was fifteen. And sure, they were villains, they stole, they manipulated, they even occasionally tried to take over cities when the rewards were enticing enough. But being a villain was a job, not who they were. And when they watched those first few blundering times Baby Flash had run around with his hero and tried to stop them, occasionally tripping himself and running into things, they had grown… a small attachment to him.

Really, it was kind of endearing (in a pull-out-your-hair sort of way). He would more often than not be seen checking up on them if they got put in the hospital, incessantly asking how their family's were, or babbling on about what he wanted for his birthday, or Christmas. As they got used to their Baby Flash, they started to feel more than a smidge of affection. When their Baby first properly socked Digger in the gullet, the villain wouldn't stop bragging about the kid's left hook for a whole week, despite the embarrassment of being taken down by a kid. But hey, this was _Kid Flash _they're talking about. Mirror Master had once caught the kid shirking his hero duties in favor of some complex physics equations, and now the master of warping reality regularly did checkups with the kid on how his grades were, even offered to help with some of the homework (which was accepted more often than not, to a certain scarlet mentor's chagrin). Cold was still one hard icicle, and if you didn't know him, you couldn't really tell he held any affection whatsoever. But the fellow Rogues would begin to note his subliminal berating towards the kid, ragging on him about how he _should have_ handled the situation or what he _could have_ done to stop it. And not disappointing his 'guardians' one bit, the kid would listen and pick up how to better handle himself in a fight.

It was never made official, but that's because it didn't need to be. Baby Flash was an obnoxious hero in training, who probably had too big of a heart for his own good. And as the Flash's Rogues, they had a duty towards the young upstart to make sure he stayed as safe as one could when fighting villains. Oh, they could try to kill him and his mentor all they wanted, just so long as they _didn't_.

There had been a bit of an uproar when they found out about Young Justice, and all that entailed. After all, _everyone _knew about Independence Day, and then there was that incident in Bialya when the kid spent about a week getting his memory back in one piece (Trickster had harassed the Flash for letting their Baby Flash forget about his play-date with the villain for a record three hours before he was finally sent off to Iron Hills). And then when the whole plant fiasco came about and their baby _broke his arm_. True, such was the life of heroes and villains. But Count Vertigo, should he ever try, would not be receiving any invites to their city any time soon. Needless to say, the Rogues had gone the extra mile to check in with (read: pester) Baby Flash and keep him in top fighting condition so no _nonCentral _thugs would take him down.

After all, nobody gets to mess with their city's sidekick accept _them_. So when they discovered Kid Flash's ugly secret, they didn't take it very well.

Trickster was the first one to pick up on something weird. But as most things involving Trickster go, it was quickly dismissed as confused-off-his-meds drabble. He had created a massive bomb that, when let off, would blanket half the city in a giant cloud of itching powder. Flash was out of town (some mess with hurricanes in the southern isles or another), so in no time at all Kid Flash appeared and they faced off.

"Baby Flash, are you gonna come play darts with me after this?" He threw a colorful gag towards the speedster, who easily shot out of range before the thing exploded with a mix of dangerous heat and green dye.

"Sorry James, I sort of have some- homework to do." The speedster had arrived almost ten minutes late, and though it was normal for him to be late (ironically), it still felt like something was _off_. Was it the way their baby was holding himself? How his movements were more clipped than easy going?

Trickster reached into his gag bag and chucked out a slew of explosives. "Catch!"

Kid Flash dodged quickly, starting to smirk and bring forth the ever present hero quip, when his feet suddenly entangled and he tripped. Sliding a few good feet, he groaned as he looked down and discovered James had thrown a yo-yo at him.

The multi-colored villain gave him a huge grin. "Ya can't beat the classics!"

"Har-har, Trickster." Kid Flash smiled as he pushed himself up, then gasped and reached for his head.

"Baby Flash?" The villain bounded up to the sidekick, not at all concerned that he could easily get caught.

The bright clad hero leaned away a bit, smiling like a dork. "No worries, James. Just- a head ache!" But he wasn't letting go of his head.

His face taking on an uncharacteristic frown, the older teen strode closer and grabbed the red head's hands, pushing them away despite the meta's suddenly frantic protests.

Red.

Not orange, red. Not vibrant locks. Caked, wet tresses of red.

"BABY FLASH!" Trickster screamed immediately, the sight of blood on their little speedster freaking him out. Sure he'd seen their baby hurt, but not like _this_. Did he do this? Did he manage to hurt his baby? No, it couldn't be. Could it? Tears started to dance in his eyes. "I-I hurt our baby!" He let go of the sidekick and fell to the ground, sobbing. "Baby Flash is gonna die and it's all my fault!"

"Woah, woah, Trickster!" Kid Flash hastily knelt down, blatantly ignoring his throbbing head. An emotional Trickster was more dangerous than one off his meds, by far. "Trickster? Trickster? James, listen to me!" At hearing his real name, the costumed young adult settled slightly, hiccupping as he looked up at their city's sidekick. Wally set his hands reassuringly on the distraught teen's shoulders. "You didn't do this, alright? And I'm not gonna die," He smiled widely, encouraged by Trickster's relaxing figure, "we still need to play darts this Saturday, right?"

"R-right."

"See? I can't die before that, especially since I wouldn't be able to reschedule!"

Trickster nodded. That was true, Wally couldn't die before they played darts, and he certainly couldn't reschedule if he died… hmm… The colorful villain glanced back up at him, desperate hope glimmering in his eyes. "So it wasn't me?"

"No," Kid Flash's expression became… dark, bitter. "No, you didn't do this to me James." He absently raised his hand back up to the wound, wincing.

Trickster frowned, a new thought coming to his mind. "So who did?"

The speedster, who had zoned off a bit, blinked in confusion as he came back to the present. "Huh?"

Trickster stood back up, wiping the remains of his tears away, suddenly feeling suspicious. Had one of the Rogues attacked Baby Flash and didn't warn them? He didn't think anybody had planned a heist or robbery this week! But they'd never be this careless, and if he was judging by the size and blood flow, Kid Flash's speed healing also added in, he got that gash less than an hour or so ago. "If I didn't do that to you, than who did?" His voice took a hard edge.

Trickster was somewhat surprised by the little hero's reaction. The green eyes widened in slight panic. "Uh- who? I mean, no one! I- I- nobody did this to me!... I fell!"

_That _stopped the villain cold. "What?"

"What?" The costumed boy responded, seemingly trying to play out confusion.

But Trickster was having none of that. Grabbing the yellow and red teen by the shoulders, he dragged the kid forward so they were inches apart. "What did you say? _What _happened?"

The teen didn't bother squirming in his grip, knowing Trickster wouldn't do anything, but nonetheless his eyes darted every which way, trying to avoid contact. "Uh, just like I said, I… fell."

_I fell_. Those words rang in the young adult's ears, disbelieving. He'd heard that line before, and it wasn't one you used if a super villain trounced you. Pied Piper had used it at first whenever he had gone home to confront his parents and came back bruised. _Trickster _had told it to his teachers when he was still a kid living with his stupid mom and her messed up boyfriend. No, it wasn't possible, not to the sidekick! Who would hurt their baby? He didn't do anything wrong! "Who did this to you?"

The kid paled slightly. "Trickster, I _told _you, I-"

"_WHO_!" Trickster shook him slightly, panicking. Who did this to Kid Flash? Who would? Was it FLASH himself? One of the other heroes? Bullies at school?

"James, let me go." Kid Flash reasoned calmly, despite his pale skin. Trickster realized he was breathing harshly, gripping the boy so he couldn't get away. But at the sound of baby Flash's patient tone, he loosened his grip and backed away. "Look, I need to go," the red head rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not making eye contact, "I know you were having fun and all, but I need you to stop, okay?"

Trickster nodded his head compliantly, not letting on how franticly his mind was working. "Okay."

"And let's not mention this to anybody?" Kid Flash gestured towards the now clotting head would. "It's really not a big deal, I'm… such a klutz. I'll just go eat a couple cheeseburgers and be patched right up!"

"Okay."

"Great, thanks. I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Okay."

"… good, don't forget to stop that bomb before it goes off, or we won't be able to hang out. Well I'll… seeyathenbye!" And with a gust of wind, Kid Flash had disappeared.

Trickster wasted no time, hurrying as fast as he could back to the base, forgetting most of his gadgets back on the rooftop (but still dismantling his 'itch attack', _nothing _was worse than missing a play date with his baby Flash).

Another tendency Kid Flash had that differed from his mentor was that he didn't always send the villains off to prison. Though Cold had a tendency to be put in right away, if the red haired teen caught them in time before they pulled off their attacks or heists, and talked them down, he usually just let bygones be bygones. It had confused the Rogues at first, and chalked it up to a _really _rookie mistake until they realized the hyper active brat had a soft spot for them. Which didn't help their own twisted endearment go away.

Now, though, Wally may regret not locking up Trickster. Because everyone knew, unintentional or not, that Trickster was a huge gossip. Which is why the first words out of his mouth were exactly what Kid Flash had been hoping to avoid.

"_Somebody's hurt our baby!_"

Trickster, however, also had a reputation for being overly dramatic. So when he burst into the room with his announcement, the most he got was Sam glancing up from some notes and Len frowning as he placed down a bad hand for poker. "Well that's what happens when Kid Flash gets sent out on missions, Trickster. He fights other villains who hurt him, its part of the _job_."

"No, no! It's not like that!" Trickster pulled at his gaudy attire irately, trying to get through to the group. "Somebody _hurt _the baby!"

"What's going on now, then?" Pied Piper walked in, having just finished a successful heist at a music department (they may wear costumes, but that doesn't mean they couldn't _subtly _rob a store).

"Kid Flash got hurt fighting another villain."

"It wasn't a _villain_!" the jokester sulked, scandalized by their suggestions. "That's not what he said."

"Oh? What did Kid Flash say?" Piper asked as he browsed the fridge, only half paying attention.

"He said he wasn't going to die-"

"Well that's good," Mark intoned distractedly from where he was sketching out a future battle strategy, "did you try to kill him?"

"No! He's our baby, and-"

"Kid," Cold glanced at him, frowning slightly, "don't get comfy with a hero- just because you _aren't _going to kill him doesn't mean you shouldn't _try_."

"_Guys_, I'm telling you what happened!"

Hartley waved his hand placating. "Sorry, James. We'll listen now." To prove his point, he closed the fridge and reclined back in a long suffering way, though everyone else bluntly turned back to whatever they were doing.

"Well- after he said he wasn't going to die because he still had to play darts with me- I felt better but then I asked who did hurt him and he said nobody did it to him!"

"Ah, pull ya head in Trickster- if he said nobody did it than ya better trust the dinky-di hero and take his word for it!" Digger sniped from the couch in the other room, trying to focus on whatever was on, but inevitably listening to the youngest member's wild jabbering.

"No! He was lying! I know because I told him to not lie and he stuttered and _paused _and said he _fell_."

In that one sentence, the room's atmosphere suddenly dropped into a quiet hush, the group turning and paying more attention to the youngest member. "So what," Len drawled eventually, though his tone was tight, "the kid's a klutz on his best days."

"Where was he hurt, exactly?" Sam called from his spot. Not looking up from his work, but pausing.

Trickster rubbed his own head sympathetically. "Right here, it looked like somebody hit him good, he did _not _fall, and he wasn't healing fast enough, like someone just bashed him before he came to hang out with me."

Some of the adults' eyes trailed over to the most recent returned Rogue- Hartley had straightened from his relaxed pose and met their side glances with an intense glare. "Try to voice your insinuations and I'll subconsciously program all of you to break down weeping every time the Flash catches you at a crime scene."

"'Course it wasn't Hartley. Could be no one, for all we know." Cold looked about with his own frosted stare.

James had enough of them not taking him seriously. He stomped irately and pointed an angry finger at the leader of their troupe. "Someone is hurting _our _baby! And _no one _gets to hurt our baby!"

Digger had stood from his spot at the couch and moved into the room, pensively taking in Trickster's pose. "Don't get your knickers in a knot, kid. Even if someone _was _mucking around with our hero, the 'baby' obviously isn't going to talk, so how do we know for sure?"

This made the Trickster pause, but just as quickly he broke into a huge maniacal grin. "Hartley and I can break into his school to check on him!"

Mirror Master cocked an eyebrow at that. "That would imply, James, that you know where he goes to school."

"We both do, actually." The Pied Piper cut in smoothly, dragging the attention away from Trickster. "Saw him change to civvies in an ally once while you and Mark were fighting with Flash. Watched him march right up to Central High and go late to his first period."

"Shut ya gob, since when! Ya didn't even share that juicy bit?"

"Why would we? Rogues don't bother _civvies_, and Baby Flash can't always play hero- his cover would be blown if we showed up to mess with him."

"So we're going to rescue Baby Flash?" Trickster looked between the men eagerly. "We're gonna beat up whoever hurt our hero?"

"We're not doing _squat_." Cold stood from the table and glared down at the younger adults, his look keeping them from protesting. "Not until Trickster's crazy assumptions- however unlikely- are proven worth dealing with. Piper, you figure out whatever you need to do to get in that school and figure out what's going on, but if you or James get caught, don't expect any help." His piece being said, the man strode over, grabbed a beer, and headed out the door.

The Rogues watched him go for a bit before Hartley turned to Mirror Master, a smug look crossing his features. "Hey Sam, remember that bet you lost and how you owe me a good one?"

Trickster giggled at the man's slightly paling face before the expression scrunched into something decidedly unhappy. "Bloody hell."

* * *

"So, Mr… _Kar-ace_?" The secretary squinted down at the name written on the application.

"It's pronounced _Shayray_, ma'am." The man's oldest son, _Harold_, intoned politely. "Its french."

Mr. Samuel _Charais_ looked decidedly unhappy about his name, but the secretary pressed forward. "I see. Well then, eh, sir. Everything appears in order, and I'd be happy to take you back to speak with our principal."

"Wonderful." Sam remarked, inwardly sighing that he was actually playing this game. He rested a hand against Jame's back. "Come along, _Jessie_, it would be good for you to meet your future principal as well."

"Sure thing dad!" Same couldn't tell if James was good at acting, or if he was just hyped up enough to seem honest.

"I think I'll stay out here," 'Harold' spoke up, turned to the middle-aged woman. "Before I go back to the waiting room, can you direct me to your nearest restroom?"

The secretary quickly obliged with some directions, and then hustled the slightly grumpy Sam and James down the office hall towards the next step in his application process. Thank god James had taken up the hobby of making false identifications- this was working out better than any of them had anticipated- though Sam had given them both a lot of crap for the name choice (_"cultural my ass, if I can't pronounce it than neither will they!"_). As soon as the woman was out of site, Hartley turned from the doorway and nimbly jumped over the desk and headed straight for the computer. It took only a few moments to locate the search page he required before he began scanning through faces of the school's system. He didn't have a name to go on, but Baby Flash's _lack _of costume gave him enough to work with (there couldn't be thatmany red heads with green eyes at this school). On impulse, he started at the bottom of the alphabet, knowing the most common last names were on the latter half of the spectrum. Surprisingly fast, he found the lopsided grin of Kid Flash looking out at him within a few scrolls.

"_Wally Rudolph West_? That might be worse than Hartely Rathaway." Quickly, he opened the page for all information, counseling sessions, and activities that the speedster was involved in and stashed it into his flash drive. Moments later the secretary was making her way out, and found Harold sitting complacently in the chair closest to the door, scanning through a Global Magazine.

It was another few minutes before his 'fail safe' went off. He only looked up when he heard the secretary shriek in surprise, and dutifully acted horrified when he saw smoke coming from the computer, even throwing in an alarmed "Is that on _fire_?!".

Within seconds the alarm went off, and the whole school evacuated. Sam wasted no time making his hasty farewells to the distressed principle and dragging the two youngest Rogues to their nondescript car. Hartley had a brief moment where he thought he saw the tell tale flash of red hair as they drove away, but couldn't be sure.

"You got what we needed?" Sam asked, eyes focused on the road.

"Yep. If any additional information is encrypted, I'm pretty sure James can crack it."

"I've hacked school files before." James threw in helpfully from the back.

"Hmph. Well get to it as soon as we return. Now that I have a feel for where this place is, I can set up some strategic mirror watchers based on his schedule."

* * *

It didn't take them long to get their proof. It should have taken longer, but within two days, they had all the damning evidence they needed to act.

Wally's school files were standard in everything but science, which Sam was a little proud to find he excelled in, Physics especially. He had low grades for gym, which made Captain Boomerang guffaw horribly, because wasn't it _just like _a cliché hero to pretend to be weak and helpless when you weren't? He had several absences, both explained and not, and the standard teacher comments of 'excels in group settings', 'does not stay focused well', 'is a polite student'.

It was the councilor notes that gave them their next clue that Trickster might be on to something. Wally had just started into his second semester of sophomore year, and his parents had stopped attending conferences after his first quarter in the present year. His records indicated he arrived almost chronically late to school for days on end, only when the school called home would the attendance pick up before slipping again. Teachers noticed that aside from Wally's general good attitude, he would be a lot more tired, apparently sore, and sometimes sporting bruises. When confronted by a counselor after his Literature Professor grew too concerned, Wally insisted it was nothing, there were some home problems because of his father's job, but that was all.

And to explain his injuries, he said he _fell_.

Trickster didn't even try gloating that he was right, and no one had to say out loud that they had hoped the spastic villain was wrong. Still, Cold wasn't going to let them act out until they had something solid to go with- a confession.

The term 'perfect timing' was ridiculously accurate as, the very next morning; Len had looked in on Mirror Master's progress and witnessed the whole thing. The meta had been heading to gym class, taking his time to get in the locker room and only started to change after the last of the other boys trickled out. It made sense- if Kid Flash had ever gotten some bad scars from fighting, others would ask for answers that would bring up one too many questions for the sixteen year old to answer. Sam had been about to close the portal and open for the one on the cafeteria window where they'd have a view of his gym session. Instead Cold grasped his shoulder and grated out a "Wait.", seeing something Sam had missed. He really didn't think they should be watching their baby strip, boys locker room or no.

Instead, wincing, the speedster took off his top and turned towards the mirror, displaying for both adults a terrible array of colors across Wally's chest. The speedster, oblivious, examined his reflection, gasping slightly as he tenderly explored the bruises progress.

"Man, who'd have thought speed healing wasn't fast enough? I didn't realize dad did such a number on me."

He said it.

Right there, no fanfare, no build up. The kid just utterly puked out the horrid truth to his unseeing audience while everyone else was given a smiley faced lie. And it was the kid's _father_, what the hell? Wasn't Flash the kid's father? Were they dealing with a hero who wasn't as great a guy as he acted in costume? Shit, shit, _shit_.

The kid looked warn, carefully putting on his gym shirt in case someone walked in before leaning carefully against the counter. He was muttering to himself, but his words echoed throughout the alternate dimension as loud as if he were speaking into a microphone.

"I can do this. I can, speed healing's working through it." His face furrowed into something angry, bitter. "If you can deal with super villains, Wally, you can deal with your dad having a bad day. It could be worse."

_Having a bad day. _Their baby's chest was clearly indicating at least a heavily bruised rib cage, if not some hidden fracture, and his words about the abuser were that they had been _having a bad day_. _It could be worse_.

With one last wince at the mirror, the teen took a deep breath and headed out of the locker room. Sam shut down everything- at this point they didn't want to see anymore- and turned to Cold.

The villain's posture was rigid, anger slowly seeping from his form. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, a lot of them coming back to the irrational question of why didn't the kid _say _something? But he knew, he'd seen things like this before, he'd _been _in situations like this before. And look how he turned out. That made him think of the bratty hero, dealing with this crap on a daily basis, but still pulling his obnoxious goody hero card.

No. _Hell no. _Nobody got to treat _their _kid like this.

Cold gestured towards the now blank screens. "Put them back on. Record anything you find with him confessing, showing injuries, I want as much proof as we can grab." Cold stalked towards the exit Sam set up from the mirror realm. "And keep your bloody mouth shut about this; I don't want Hartley or James seeing this crap."

"Good idea," Sam watched his retreating figure steadily. "So when do we act?"

Cold glanced over his shoulder. "As soon as fucking possible." That kid, however indirectly, was a part of their family, and _no one _got away with hurting one of their own. They weren't the good guys, though. They weren't going to be knights in shining armor, swooping in right when the kid's dad was beating him up again and _saving the day_. They were villains, and they did things the villain way.

Which meant this called for an old fashioned kidnapping.

**:D Look! I live~! **

**Wanted to try and complete my smaller stories before I started on the bigger fish like 'Minor Problems'. Its either going to be a two or three chapters, so enjoy~**

**;) Rogues, so fun to write, so fun to use when messing with Wally.**


	2. Something to Bring Them Together

**Most of the Rogues history is of my own making- just like Wally's abusive family is of my own making. Try not to be too furious that I'm taking creative liberties. ;)**

The second thing you should know is that Rogues are very difficult to stop when they work as a team. They each have their own gifts that would qualify them as experts, even geniuses, in their area of proficiency. But their ability to strategize and put those gifts into action is often subpar- the effort to maintain minions even less. They never seem to have the same view points, or even similar heist preferences. In fact, the Rogues only tend to interact when they are out of costume or escaping prison. Because of this, they come off as incompetent dolts who- according to villains from other cities- are a laughing stock to their profession.

Cold is the one who started the Rogues, although he wasn't always the 'leader' of the group, and he certainly didn't choose the name. It all started because he had been sent to jail one too many times without a successful heist, and was sick of it. So, he called on Mirror Master, who grudgingly worked with the frigid man. They plotted their next target for weeks, making sure everything was in place and the necessary security measures taken.

And of course, Flash thwarted them- like always- in seconds.

Captain Cold had been furious when Mirror Master had dodged out of the fight through his portal with a chunk of the goods before the crimson hero had a chance to apprehend him. Len hadn't had the luxury of an alternate dimension escape, and he had fumed from the police car to his cell in silent wrath at how stupid the entire situation was. He should have known better than to call on another crook- double crossing was a standard in their world. He should have bloody figured out how to do this on his own, he should have double crossed the jerk before the reflective freak beat him to it. Rule number one: a villain only looks out for themselves.

But then, in the middle of his mental tirade and about five hours into his incarceration, he had heard a tentative knock. Looking up, he saw nobody near his solitary confinement door, at least nothing he could see through the window. The tap happened again though, and the ice criminal ended up cautiously approaching the door.

He was ready, expecting a lot of things, but the _last _thing he was expecting was to see his freeze gun come from _inside of the glass _and be held out to him. He was so shocked that he just stared, eyes taking in the green glove connected to the orange jumpsuit but not sure what to make of it.

"Hurry the bloody hell up and take it. If you freeze the wall or ground, I can pull you through, but we have about twenty seconds before the guards get here after seeing the footage."

The man's warning about the guards broke whatever spell was on Freeze- as well as the blaring alarm. He wasn't quite sure what Mirror Master was playing at, but a get-out-of-jail-free card was just handed to him, and he wasn't about to lose out on it. Deftly taking his weapon of choice, he faced the opposing wall and fired his gun; taking out the camera snuggled in the corner just for extra cover should they need it. In moments he had a lovely glaze of ice glittering with his own reflection. He turned towards the door and iced that as well, hearing the guards approaching and knowing any amount of delay is good. By the time he turned around, Mirror Master was half-way through the portal making hurried gestures for him to _move it_.

The crazy physics bending thief grasped his arm and yanked him through without any warning- and Cold stiffened to repress the groan as he was hit with the dizzy spell that he later found out always came with entering the pocket dimension. With them both now safely in the alternate world, Mirror Master let Captain Cold regain his balance.

Wordlessly, Len got his act together and stood straight. That was the signal the other Central crook needed to walk them back home. They exited the mirror world a few minutes later, Cold finding himself in a rather homey kitchen with the sack of their stolen goods in the far corner.

"It took awhile to navigate the prison and find your weapon, otherwise you woulda been out sooner." Cold didn't reply, instead choosing to keep his gaze on their spoils. "It's not what we planned on, but we can still split it fifty-fifty." The man in orange grumbled.

Cold narrowed his eyes, hiding his confusion as he turned to face the unorthodox rescuer. "Fifty is more than I was expecting to get out of this partnership, seeing as you ditched the scene."

Mirror Master didn't even pretend to look abashed. "You would have bolted and left me to rot too, chump. Besides, I got you out, didn't I?"

"Yeah you did." Casually, he raised his gun so it wasn't exactly pointing at the criminal, but would be ready to fight if it came to it. "So why did you, Mirror Master?"

Again, the masked man frowned, glancing down at the weapon in Cold's hand. With a gruff sigh, the villain raised his hand to his head.

And took off his mask.

Shit- Len could feel the drama building.

"The name's Sam." He looked at the prison garbed villain with an air of annoyance. "And I figured that your idea about the partnership was a good one- even if it still failed. And there's no way I want to make this a full-time gig, but you owe me a solid now. Guess I'm thinking we can look after each other's backs."

"Villains don't look out for one another." Cold grated out, slightly alarmed at _Sam's _thinking. Because really, they couldn't do this. Central villains didn't interact, they just kept to themselves and prayed whatever they did wouldn't step on each other's toes. His plan was born of one too many drinks, and worked about as well.

"Yeah, well most villains don't make it 'cause they don't work together. I'm not looking for a partnership for taking over the world, just another rogue to have my back if I ever needed it, and I'd have theirs."

"Bit old fashioned, aren't you? Calling a criminal a rogue?"

The master of warping dimensions grit his teeth, clearly losing what patience he had with Cold. "Whatever, I got ya out, and I'm giving you your share. If you're so offended about getting help, then feel free to just leave your half with me and prance right back to Iron Heights."

Cold continued to glare at the man, thinking. This really was too much drama for him, the whole situation was just shy of actually feeling _vulnerable_, and Central's most frosty character did _not _do sharing emotion._ Just no._

But surprising even himself, he let out a sigh and lowered his gun to the table, heading towards the stash. "The name's Len." He called over his shoulder, opening the bag to view the goods. "And this is a terrible idea."

* * *

But terrible or not, it was the start of Central's most notorious group. They kept up contact, throwing out the occasional favor for one another until Weather Wizard and The Top found out, and head butted their way in. After one too many of the group having a boy's night and being too drunk to get home, Len decided since they all lived in dumps, they might as well share a dump together so it wasn't hell making sure they all didn't end up walking into a police station- or _being _walked into a police station by a perfectly good well meaning citizen. (It was the most demeaning moment of his life and he swore everyone who knew on pain of death to never speak of it again.)

It wasn't easy, but he pulled some old contacts to get a hold of an abandoned building that they refurbished with… some acquired items. Plus a few renovations.

And to be fair, the contractor that put in the new floor and windows did it for free, if you ignored the black mail.

From there it kept growing, either villains breaking the code and getting kicked out, or entirely new ones joining in while some just faded from the group, not keeping up with the Rogues. The name itself was Sam's fault, of course. Early on Captain Boomerang had heard about their little set up, and had gone out with the criminal for drinks until they were both tipsy.

"Pig's arse! You mean that ain't no rumor? You and Cold are shacking up in some villainy partnership? Or is it for a good root?"

"Shut the hell up, Captain _Boomerang_." Sam jerked his head up, trying to focus his eyes on the equally bleary criminal. "Its… its like some mock club of bad guys. We just keep each other from feeling too much heat from the coppers, you know? Occasionally help in a heist, point out when someone's plan is total bull crap."

Boomerang snorted, still disbelieving. "And whatta ya call this group; a band-o-thieves?"

Mirror Master burst into drunken giggles. "No, no, what do you think we call ourselves? We're-" he leaned in conspiringly, and Boomerang obliged, "we're the _Rogues_!"

Hours later they were still howling, calling out for everybody to 'fear the Rogues!' and 'the Flash can't beat the Rogues!'. Needless to say, the hangover was terrible, but both managed to remember that bit. Even though Cold was adamant that it was a terrible title, every other con artist and cat burglar soon knew the super villain group by that name, and by the time it hit the papers, Len had just shook his head and grabbed a beer in resignation.

As stated, though the Rogues were a team, they generally didn't work together. But when they did… it was a force Central shuddered to see. Only certain things could ever bond the group enough to have them put aside their many differences to fight under one banner, like the alien invasion that was attempted a year or so before Kid Flash joined the hero gig. Other than world crisis and other super villain's trying to get in to their territory, not much qualified as something to bring them together.

Kidnapping Kid Flash was the exception.

* * *

The moment Len decided they needed to take action for the baby hero, the group worked for three days to get the plan together. Len firmly talked with the group that now knew the speedster's civilian name, and threatened under pain of getting them sent to Arkham for them to keep their damn traps shut and _not _rescue the kid while he was out of costume.

"It's just another head ache we don't need to deal with- he'll flip that we know, and the League will probably send in the bloody Martians to wipe our minds of the knowledge. I am not getting altered mentally by extra-terrestrials just because you guys didn't know how to shut your traps." Thus coerced into silence, they also agreed not to follow him home, in case _daddy Flash _happened to recognize them and the same situation occurred.

So they had to wait until Kid Flash was available to fight- which was also postponed due to him apparently being out on one of those 'covert mission's he had mentioned in the past (if the 5 o'clock news on a meta crisis in North Dakota was anything to go by). Rogues in on the plan were forced to lay low for the three days, because suddenly everyone wanted to rip Flash a new one- and weren't likely to be able to hold back from shouting things along the lines of 'we know you're beating your kid and we want to know how _you _like it!'. Even Cold had been tempted, but surprisingly it was the Pied Piper who was the voice of reason with that one.

"I'm not entirely convinced Flash is our guy."

"Are you kidding?" Digger looked at the red head incredulously. "The bloody hero can't act any _less _like a smothering parent."

"_Exactly_," Piper threw his hands in the air in frustration. "I don't know why, but it wouldn't make sense for him to act that way in costume then beat Kid Flash when they're home. And _Wally _still treats Flash like he's a great guy. All I'm saying is he could have a normal civvie parent."

"So who is Flash then? Eager teacher? Random joe?"

"Either way," Cold butted in. "We'll find out for sure who the kid's beater is, and teach them a lesson."

Which they didn't get to do, but had their plan worked out regardless.

* * *

It was all thanks to James that things went smoothly. 'Wally' was getting ready to go visit his pseudo friend at the mental institution for darts, and instead received a report that Trickster is was seen throwing water balloons from the highest city buildings while belting out the song 'We are Young'.

"Dang it James, I thought Len and Hartley were checking in on your meds." Sighing, he tugged his mask over his face, mentally mapping out the quickest run to his pseudo friend as the radio continued to drone on.

"Do you want me to tag along?" Barry called from the kitchen, his voice just a tinge concerned.

"Nah, it'll be fine, Uncle Barry."Wally peeked in to grab one of the sandwiches off the elder speedster's plate, snickering at the man's squawk of indignity. "Be'shi'dshs," he added, mouth full of his prize. "Tw'ixer probabfy j'sht- em, bored. The Rouges have been pretty quiet recently, and I'll bet he didn't get in on the plan, or something."

"Hmm, I've noticed that too. We'll have to keep an eye out then in the future." Standing, the hero walked over and gave Wally a solid clap on the shoulder. "Just remember you can't play _too _nice with him. He's a villain, not a-" his expression changed to surprise at Wally's wince, "is that shoulder still not fully healed?"

"It's almost, I'm guessing it'll be fully gone by tomorrow." Wally brusquely hurried on. "And don't worry; I can handle the occasional bully."

"This isn't occasional anymore Wally, your classmates are getting out of hand." Barry narrowed his eyes. "I'm glad your parents are letting you stay for the weekend, I think on Monday I should go in with you and speak to one of your teachers."

"No!" Wally turned and glared. "You promised, remember? It's not bad, and I've _handled worse_. Having my uncle come save me won't improve matters either- mom and dad already talked with the teachers, remember?"

Barry sighed, having this conversation with Wally before. "I know kid, and I don't want to make things harder for you. I just… worry."

"Wha? About little ol' me?" Wally grinned ridiculously, pushing away the brief bout of unease. "I bet a night out at Tony's Parlor would improve the universe, let's have a pizza night and see if that fixes my school woes!"

"Not the way we eat." Barry laughed out before listening in to the radio again, which had picked up in volume. "We'll talk later, for now you go handle our wayward criminal. I think I hear him starting on the third verse."

"Right, right." Wally brought the goggles down over his eyes, smirking and shouting one last "Later!" before taking off.

Naturally, the speedster was there within a minute, just in time to hear the bellowing of 'the angel's never arrived~' and grabbing the next balloon out of the kid of mayhem's hands so nobody else got the misfortune of a high speed balloon careening at them.

"James, we talked about this!" He carelessly let the balloon drop to explode near his feet on the ground, which was surprisingly already hugely wet. Trickster must have been either dumping balloons on the roof too, or was somehow filling them from a spot the hero couldn't see. Wally ignored the watery explosion to fix the grinning teen with a stern look. "How am I supposed to play darts if you're not at our appointed spot?"

"You came!" Trickster vaulted from his position and glomped Kid Flash, who let out a grunt from the impact but managed to stay standing.

Sighing like a parent dealing with a hyper-active child, he shrugged and patted the masked villain reassuringly. "Doi, of course I came. I promised, didn't I? Even though you are _so _breaking the rules right now." Carefully, minding his shoulder, he broke the hold. "If you stop right now and come with me back to the clinic, we can probably still play darts and you won't get charged with this."

Normally at this point Trickster would capitulate with a crazy grin and literally float his way back to their meeting spot. Instead, while the grin was there, the slightly older teen shook his head. "Nope nope! I had to come here because _you _have to come with me!"

Wally frowned. Crazy doctors must be fixing up new meds again- "Er, no James, I mean yeah- I come _with _you back to-"

"Not quite what he means, Kid."

Instantly Kid Flash tensed, turning to see cold rounding the corner on the rooftop. How long had he been there? "Captain Cold?"

"You have some explaining to do." The costumed villain stalked forward, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the youngest speedster.

Wally cocked his head to the side, wondering if this was going to be an interrogation, or a battle. "And what exactly am I explaining?"

"For starters- why you've been lying."

His heart race picked up a little, but Wally ignored it. That wasn't what he meant, it couldn't be. "Sorry Captain, you'll have to elaborate, because I'm pretty sure I've been an honest Kid with you guys- recently."

"Sure, baby Flash." Cold let out a freeze ray, and Kid Flash zoomed to the side, nabbing James with him, but realized a second later that Cold hadn't even been aiming at him, and had instead coated the rooftop. A warning shot? Was he trying to make him slip up- literally? "James, show me that head wound."

Wally squawked as the recovered Trickster grabbed his arm and vaulted towards Cold, but he quickly broke away, careful not to slip on the ice he was on. He looked between the two and felt a stupid wave of panic. There was no reason to freak, because they didn't know anything. Nobody had found out this far in, and if Wally could help it, they never would. "Head wound? From when I," drat, what excuse was it he gave James? Not bullies, not running accident- oh right, "fell? That's long healed, perks of being a speedster- fast healing!" He tried to throw a stupid grin on, but felt like he was failing.

Trickster frowned, looking a bit hurt. "You're lying _again_! To me!" He clutched at his heart dramatically. "Why don't you trust us? We can help!"

_No, they don't know, no, stay calm. _"Th-there's nothing _to _help, James." Really. He wasn't a weakling, he wasn't a baby, he could take it. "Like I said, I _fell_." _After dad shoved me and then smacked into the coffee table. _"Not a lot you can do to my living room table."

"And what about the other injuries, are _those _from falling too?"

_Crap, oh crap- how can they know about the others? _"Others?" But the second he saw Cold's glare get even frostier, he realized he'd better change tactics. Playing dumb wouldn't get him anywhere- fibbing then. "I _have _missions outside of here you know. I just, well, got hurt fighting- I mean I'm still pretty fast, but you can't _always _get away scot free, and-" _Rambling, totally rambling. Hatehate_hate_ coming up with lies on the spot._

"You're a terrible actor, Kid. Don't look for a career in it."

_Psh, my acting is great! Nobody else figured it out, anyhow. _"Okay, fine, whatever." He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere trying to keep this up. "It doesn't matter though; it's none of your business."

"Is it Flasher? Has he started bashing his own kid?"

The statement made Wally's heart thump faster, hating how close to the truth it was reaching. "Wha- no! No, he wouldn't-"

"Doesn't matter, we're taking over from this point."

Wally felt himself breaking into a cold sweat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you ain't playing fucking darts with James, you're sitting in time out until you feel like talking." Cold nodded firmly, towards the ground.

Wally felt anger rise at the villain treating him like a child (time out? What does he mean by that?!)- but whatever verbal lash back he was about to deliver was lost in a surprised shout as he was suddenly dragged _down _and through the roof by two familiar gloved hands. He briefly watched Trickster wave a perky good-bye before suddenly feeling a bout of wooziness that came from being pulled into the Mirror dimension.

Groaning, his speedster form recovered quicker than the average person. _Mirror dimension. Crap. Crapcrapdoublecrap. _He didn't know what was going on, but this wasn't going to end well if the Rogues were working together. His slumped form realized he was being held up- probably by Mirror Master, and promptly shook himself out of the grasp, staggering a few steps away. Still trying to focus his vision, he got into a defensive stance and heard Sam's distinct voice mutter. "I'm not dealing with a fussy baby. Take care of it Piper."

_Piper- wait, oh triplecrap!- _His hands were only half way to covering his ears when the first soft notes hit him. Instantly his mind calmed, the sweet melody lilting and diving into a gentle pattern that- before he realized it- had him slowly falling to the ground. His mind blacked out with the final image of Hartley coming over to him, a weirdly sympathetic expression on his face.

* * *

Of course, Wally did not go unmissed.

However, as stated before, because of James the kidnapping was not discovered until three hours later, when Kid Flash _should _have finished his play date with the wayward young adult.

Instead, Barry turns on the news to find his partner's disappearance one of the night's top stories.

"Witnesses claim that Kid Flash had appeared and was handling the situation with our city's notorious villain, The Trickster. However, it appears the clown of mischief was not alone, and Captain Cold joined the battle soon after Kid Flash arrived. Then, though here reports become unclear, Kid Flash fell _through _the rooftop, with Captain Cold and The Trickster soon following. Authorities were notified, but save for a puddle on the roof; there are no signs of where the hero and his attackers would have gone through."

She continued on, speculating on the reasons for the attack and how soon they would hear further news, but Barry had already changed and blasted out the door. He wished Iris wasn't out of town with friends- he would have found out about this sooner. And if Captain Cold had showed up and been aggressive, why hadn't Wally called for backup? And _three hours_- a lot can happen in that time. They'd never really done anything dangerous towards his nephew, but with villains, you just couldn't trust that they wouldn't change their while his frantic thoughts tried to piece together the occurrence, he already knew where to start looking.

In minutes, Flash was in the more run down part of the city, continuing until he hit the rooftop of an old YMCA. He paused, scanning the area and paying special attention to the glassy window surfaces. "Rogues! Don't even try to play dumb with me. We need to talk."

He only had to wait a few moments, and then immediately ducked as a mirror shard sliced through the air where he had been standing. Several more followed it, and Barry became unusually pressed to avoid being cut to ribbons. Even more surprising, the attack was joined by several freeze ray blasts. Turning, he managed to see that Mirror Master was half-way through one glass view with Trickster next to him, while Cold was on the offensive nearby with Captain Boomerang getting ready to join the fray. _What is with these guys?! All at once- they never coordinate attacks!_

Still, he was the Flash, and while they surprised him, and were definitely giving him a run for his money (pun intended), he wasn't about to go down anytime soon. He kicked into a higher drive, watching as the world slowed. Carefully, still having to dodge painfully close attacks, the speedster wove his way through the threats until he was semi protected by a protruding brick shed. The world sped up and he paused where he was, not willing to dish out justice to the Rogues until he found out what was important. "Where is Kid Flash. I want answers!"

"Doesn't matter where he is, he ain't going near you." Cold growled out, aiming his gun square at Flash's chest, but holding fire. "He won't go _anywhere _until we say."

Barry grit his teeth, bashing down the instinctual protectiveness, knowing it would only leave him open if he blindly raged in, trying to beat the answers out of them. "Let him go, Cold. If you so much as hurt him, I'll-"

"_Us _hurt _him_?" Trickster piped up, his voice escalating in an uncharacteristic anger while Sam tried to shush him. "_We're _keeping him safe from _you_, ya phony!"

Like a lot of things that came from the crook's mouth, Barry was thrown for a loop. "What?"

"The game's up, mate." Digger didn't feel inclined to hold back any longer, and started in earnest to throw some recently sharpened weapons towards the crimson hero. "You may be playing your city up to thinking you're some dinky-di hero, but we've figured you out, ya fucking scum-bag!"

Barry dodged and quickly formed wind tunnels to redirect their returning bodies, stumbling as Mirror Master appeared out of a nearby reflection and slugged him across the jaw. He moved to do the same, but the figure had become a hologram.

"You're about to be ousted by your whole group of bleeding hearts." Sam came back out of the reflection next to Trickster, his face a tight expression of vehemence. "There's no way to stop it. Piper found the kid's communicator and converted our evidence to sound waves- your stupid League will be receiving the information any minute."

"Information on _what_?" Barry could feel his frustration growing, surprised by their unusually high animosity towards him. "You're not making sense!"

"We figured it out." Trickster puffed out his chest with some pride, and Barry couldn't help wondering if Trickster had come to do anything accept gloat. "And don't bother denying! We have _proof _Kid Flash's dad is beating him."

This time Flash was not only baffled, but froze on the spot, which gave Cold just enough time to ice his legs over, stopping him in place. He didn't even bother addressing the immediate danger. "Wa- Kid Flash's dad- _what_?"

"We _know _you've been abusing your stupid hero title- taking it out on the ankle biter- and you can be damn sure we aren't going to just sit here and let ya keep hurtin' him." Digger approached cautiously, a boomerang held threateningly, but not coming down.

"Your one lucky bastard, Flash. Lotta the Rogues wanted to come and help tear you apart for this, but a villain taking down a hero isn't going to help him. So we're going to settle on giving you a taste of your own medicine, before your precious League comes and 'saves the day'."

Barry finally got over his shock, and felt a boiling pile of outrage take its place. "You think _I _hurt _Kid Flash_?" The Rogues stopped advancing at his tone, looking at him carefully. "Are you _serious_?"

"We _know _it was you." Sam glared behind his mask. "Heard the kid confess to the abuse and everything. What, taking out villains isn't enough for you? Now you have to wipe the floor with your own kid?"

His words were ringing in Barry's head. This must be some sick, twisted joke. Or their 'proof' was way off. Maybe this was a ploy to break apart him and Wally? They had always had a strange attachment to his nephew.

But even as he thought of ways around the incredulity of what they said, his brain also thought up Wally's earlier complaint about his shoulder. The bullies in his school, the constant barrage of negative treatment. And now, _now _after the Rogues stated something so horrid did he realize he didn't start to see Wally's injuries until after Rudolph had lost his job. But who could hurt Wally? This couldn't be true, it _couldn't_.

"Whatever you think you know, you must be wrong." Barry looked up at them, his voice still dangerously low. "Rud- Kid Flash's father is not like that."

"Wait, aren't _you _his dad?" Trickster piped up.

"It's none of your business James who I am to Kid Flash." He glowered towards Cold. "All you need to know is that I care about Kid Flash, _my partner_, and he _might as well _be my son. Now," he turned and looked them each squarely in the eye. "You've made a mistake, because if anything was going on, the last people he would tell is his city's criminal group." He didn't verbalize the words he really wanted to say. _He would have trusted me with that, he would have told someone, asked for help._

Cold scrutinized him for a long time, searching for something. Finally he turned away, setting his gun back on his holster. "Tough luck Flash, because it doesn't look like your Kid trusted anyone, _including _you, with that information." He started walking towards the reflection closest to Mirror Master. "We're done here, boys. Looks like our villain still isn't caught."

"Wait!" Barry tugged uselessly at the ice surrounding his legs. If he started vibrating, he might make it out in time, but once he started moving, they'd be gone before he was even half-way through. "Give back Kid Flash, Cold!"

"You can have him after you take care of the bigger problem." Cold turned and glared from behind his mask. "Even then, don't know if I want to hand him over to someone who doesn't even know his partner's in danger."

Barry broke through the ice and made a mad dash for the mirror, but he was only half-way before cold went completely through, and slammed into the reflective surface with only a bruised forehead to show for his efforts. Groaning, he gingerly sat down, knowing there wasn't going to be any further action from the Rogues at this point.

"_don't know if I want to hand him over to someone who doesn't even know his partner's in danger."_

That couldn't be true, it _couldn't_. Right?

His communicator beeped, telling him that the League was trying to contact him. He quickly opened the channel. "Flash here- I'm a little busy though."

"With the Rogues, we know." Came Batman's gravelly voice. "Put it on hold- we've received some data that concerns Kid Flash."

"_Piper found the kid's communicator and converted our evidence to sound waves- "_

Barry felt his heart pounding, and not in the usual way a speedster experiences it. "Batman, please tell me there's not some truth to what these guys just told me."

The line remained quiet for a few beats, but Barry knew his answer the moment Batman replied.

"I'm sorry, Flash."

**Soooo installment number two. Thank you to everyone who has already reviewed! I didn't expect to get so many for just the first round, but I love it all the same! Tune in next time for the final chapter! (I know, its short- right?!)**


	3. They're Villains, not Monsters

**Last and final chapter~**

The third and final thing you should know is that the Rogues see themselves as villains, but certainly not monsters. It's easy to label them as one, and even easier for a villain to_ become_ one. Joker, Crocodile, Two Face- just a few of the men that started as villains, and turned to something darker. Some embrace this change, and fully expect it if someone wants to have the title of 'villain'.

But not everyone agrees, and the Rogues are certainly appalled by the idea even if it's not necessarily advertised.

A villain robs you of your wallet, life savings, expensive furniture, etc. A monster takes that, and then destroys everything else around you just for the possibility that it may be funny. A villain plots revenge on the person who wronged them. A monster just takes it out on everybody. A villain will know when they've done enough. A monster will never feel they've gone far enough.

Being a _villain_ is a job. Being a _monster_ is a choice.

This isn't to say the Rogues haven't had their bad days, where dancing the line became too hard and they stumbled to the wrong side. But what matters is they _knew_, and instead of staying there with a manic grin, they got their shit together and moved back to the side of professionalism. Cold- irony aside- always made sure to stand as an example to the fellow idiots that joined their group. He could be cold, indifferent to other peoples' plight, and take their pricey life accomplishments without batting an eyelash. But when someone's life was on the line, he weighed his options carefully. Not all his freeze rays stopped somebody solid- on most he would use a special blend of his own that would still immobilize and trap his victims, but leave room to breathe, guaranteeing a few hours of life before things got dangerous. If he was feeling particularly put out with someone, they'd get the solid freeze (and worst experience of their life), but almost always the police would be minutes away- especially equipped for aiding Cold's victims.

Some Rogues were better about this than others, and those who couldn't really keep it together didn't last as a group member. In a twisted sort of way, those who stayed in the group acted as some support system for those who started getting itchy for a good murder. Digger was regularly intoxicated by Sam to help him blow off steam whenever his past managed to skulk out of the dredges of society and haunt him, so he was shouting abuse rather than stabbing bodies. Weather Wizard never seemed to be able to make his relationships last, and when they inevitably ended, the group would watch _his _drunk back and make sure he didn't stumble to his scorned mistress and do something he'd regret sober. On a smaller side, they'd help Trickster and the Pied Piper get through their own life troubles. Hartley had been a genius with an impossible family- one that eventually threw him out. Trickster had just wanted to make people laugh, people like his alcoholic mom and the platoon of men that marched through their lives.

Every Rogue had to prove themselves in order to join, but once those two did- they were stuck more than most. Because the Rogues were their family, more than their real ones could be. When Piper got tempted to march his parents and every one like them right off a cliff without their even knowing, Sam reminded him that it was more satisfying to watch people like that die of their own life choices. When Trickster got worked up from some sob letter and wanted to go test his acid snot-gun on some punk who inevitably used his mom- Cold dragged him back and told him his mother would fight her own damn battles since she wasn't miss innocent in the situation, and if Trickster really wanted him to, he would go out and freeze the both of 'em.

Being a perfect role model was left to those in the hero business, but the Rogues did try. They were villains, not monsters, and would act accordingly.

And while it never occurred to them that their pseudo member had his own demons, the Rogues would be damned if they let baby Flash continue to face his monster alone.

* * *

The first thought Kid Flash had when he eventually came around was: _I'm glad I decided to take a nap today. _

Of course, as he snuggled deeper into the sheets, his second was that he had never actually decided to take a nap.

Gasping, Wally vaulted up from where he had been laying, the last few moments of interacting with the Rogues bouncing ominously around in his head. Disoriented, he glanced around frantically. Had they finally snapped? Did they capture him and throw him in a warehouse? A dungeon? An abandoned jail cell? A-

A kid's room?

By all appearances, Kid Flash was in a young boy's room. _Huh, villain layers just don't have that evil aura you'd expect. _Granted it was dark, but he was pretty sure he could see some video game posters in the dim light, and an old computer hanging out on a desk surrounded by action figures. Cautiously, he slipped out of the covers, relieved to see that while his shoes, goggles and gloves were gone, he was otherwise in costume- mask and all. He may look ridiculous, but his secret identity was still safe. _Oookay, so then if they aren't seeing who I am underneath the mask, and they aren't really torturing me, why'd they grab me…?_

Padding quietly across the room, he first tried the doorway. He didn't hear anything coming from outside it, but he could see a light under the cracks that was acting as an illumination. Quietly jiggling the knob, he cursed when he found it was locked. He had expected it, but still. Sighing in resignation (at least for the time being), he flicked on the lights.

His boots, gloves and goggles had been laid on the chair near the desk, as well as a sandwich that appeared to be recently made. He ignored it for the time being, and glanced over the rest. The lighting revealed little else- though it verified this was indeed a young boy's room- judging by the comics collection and miscellaneous toys. A standing mirror stood at the corner near the closet, and a small dresser on the opposite side. The items- sans the action figures- looked even more run down than he had first suspected.

_But why am I here? Who'd leave me in their kid's room? _Part of him was suspecting the Rogues weren't even involved anymore- it was too mundane! While he wanted to check for a way out, he was loath to trash a kid's room. There were no windows that he could see, just the door with its small light filtering underneath.

He was beginning to relax. However, his suspicions rose again when he heard the distinct sound of someone stepping into the room. He whirled to see Cold, Mirror Master, and an out of costume Pied Piper entering the room via the standing mirror. Instantly Wally tensed. _Here it comes- keep it together Wall-man! Whatever they want, don't admit _anything_!_

The trio stayed on their side of the room, sizing him up until eventually Cold spoke. "Didn't restrain ya 'cause I don't need to," he paused and looked meaningfully at the still masked vigilante, "do I?" Inwardly debating for a few seconds, Wally reluctantly shook his head, knowing he would need to stay as free as possible if he was to have any chance to bolt. Cold nodded, satisfied. "We're all reasonable people here, so don't get all antsy. We just want to talk."

Wally narrowed his eyes, pointing accusingly at them (though being barefoot and without gloves somewhat ruined the effect). "I don't know what you guys think you're going to get out of me, Captain Cold. And I don't care how you got the crazy idea that this would work. But you're not getting any League secrets or superhero identities- _zilch_!"

Thus saying, he felt he had made his stance pretty clear, so he was a little confused when all he could see was Mirror Master snort and cover his laughter with a cough, and Hartley actually look like he was growing _angry_.

"We could care less what your hero club is up to, Kid." Hartley glowered. "What we want to know is how long you've been putting up with your dad abusing you, and why the _hell _you haven't gone to anyone about it!"

All of his bravado fled at that last sentence. Wally could feel his face pale, and automatically his shoulder ached a bit- as if the injury knew the secret was out. "I…" he recalled now, how Cold had been interrogating him before they nabbed him- realized that they were serious, that somehow they _knew_. Immediately, it was as if a wall came up. His cocky, even slightly uncertain face blanked into something unreadable. He crossed his arms, not looking them directly in the eye. "Time's have been tough, that's all. Dad… he doesn't mean to."

"Doesn't _mean _to bash your head in? Doesn't _mean _to beat you bruised? Practically pop your shoulder joint?"

"It's not like that!" Wally lashed out, surprising even himself with his venom. "He feels horrible every time he does it- it's just the stress, and sometimes I end up walking in when he's having a mood. I'd rather it be me than mom, anyway. She was taking it, but she- she doesn't have super speed, we both know he's trying to get better and I _know _I can handle it-"

"'Handle it'?" If Wally's voice was hot tempered, Len's was venomously cold. "Why? Can you handle it because you're a super hero, Kid? Because you have some fast healing gig and since you get beat up by bad guys your pain tolerance is larger than life?" He stalked towards the young teen, who stubbornly held his ground even in the face of the angry Rogue. "Maybe you can handle it because your bleeding heart thinks you should be able to do more than this for your family? Because you're a _hero_?" Cold didn't miss the flinch.

"But I _can_-!"

"Don't feed me that shit." His glare was enough to stop Wally from protesting further. "I don't care if you think you can 'handle it'. Nobody deserves that, least of all you."

Wally stared up at him, furious that he treated how he felt about the situation like it was a petty child's argument- not even worth humoring. But then he looked past it, and realized why Cold was doing this- he cared. He was _worried_. For all the bluffing Wally had been doing to keep people from finding out, he had never considered how guilty he'd feel once it was out. How would he feel if someone he cared about was facing this and didn't say anything- even knowing he could help?

"Aren't you supposed to be villains?" He deflected. "Caring about this sort of thing is a little out of your field."

Cold was unimpressed. "Yeah, and aren't you supposed to be a _hero_? Doesn't that mean doing what's _right_?"

Kid Flash slumped his shoulders at that, finding it easier to look down on his bare toes than face his _villains _proving what he already knew. He wondered how messed up exactly his life was that it had got to this point. "He's still my dad, Len. I don't… I know he'll get better…"

Cold didn't comment on the last statement. "Even if the man's family, it doesn't change that he should pay for what he's doing. Because what he's doing is _wrong_." Wally glanced up at Cold, and was somewhat surprised to see the icy glare had thawed somewhat. "You fight for justice, Kid. Not what's convenient, not what's easiest. Villains get to do whatever the hell they want and hope the consequences don't catch up to them- you heroes have to do right by everyone, even if you don't like it."

"You're still a hero in training, though." Mirror Master added in from the far side of the room. Inwardly, he was brutally fighting down the urge to do something as stupid as _hugging _the kid- he looked like a kicked puppy- his worst face. "So we're holding ya hostage until the problem is taken care of."

"Wait- 'taken care of', what do you mean?" His eyes widened dramatically, and the group instantly realized their error. "Guys- you know where I live?! Did you attack my family?!"

"Don't be daft, of course we didn't!" Cold cut in, keeping the attention off the slightly flustered Hartley. "At first we thought Flasher was your dad, and were going to pummel him senseless." Cold ignored the outraged sputtering from Wally, "Since apparently he's _not_, we'll wait for him and his goody Justice friends to take care of the mess before handing you back over."

Wally- after being told they didn't know his secret ID (_and thank God for that- Barry would kill me! The _League _would kill me!_), calmed down somewhat. So… they were keeping him… safe? What? Maybe there was a ransom involved that they weren't mentioning. "But, my dad… will it be bad, for him?" He kept his voice hushed, sort of hoping he didn't have to hear an answer.

"As bad as it would be for any regular kid, I'd bet. You know law better than we do."

Wally didn't answer that, hating how afraid the idea made him. What would his dad think? His mom? _There's no point in freaking out about it now, just… think of something else. _"So… you're waiting till they pick me up… like, what, you're babysitting me?"

"More like, you're having a surprise sleep over." Wally glanced back to Hartley, who now seemed to have a wicked gleam of amusement in his eye. "Since darts didn't work out today, you'll stay with James." Wally felt his worry drop at that statement. _Oh crap, they are not… _"He's excited to share his action figure collection with you."

They couldn't possibly be doing this to him- they were joking- "James?!"

"Whose room did you think you were in?"

"Oh cripes." Wally groaned, surprisingly dropping his fear of the future in favor of his inevitable time being covered in glitter, playing video games with someone who threw itching powder if they wanted to liven the game, and snored like a lion. "You're punishing me on purpose, aren't you?"

His only answer was the door behind him bursting open and being tackled to the ground by a joyful bellow of "BABY FLASH!".

* * *

It took Barry longer than he would care to admit, but he had managed to finish things close to the next morning. Oddly, understanding why the Rogues took him had lessened his stress about Wally, knowing he was at least being protected and not thoughtlessly abused. Len was a lot of things- but Barry knew that man took no pleasure in hurting people- only did what he thought he had to for his goals (is _frequently thwarted _goals).

Batman had helped pull some strings behind the scenes, but even after seeing the literal confession footage, it hurt and confused him when he made his way up the West's front porch with the local officer to have the door opened by Mary West- sporting a bruised forehead.

Honestly, they were lucky. Rudy was a loud, rather tempered man, but he did love his family. The loss of his job and increasing threat from debt collectors was stressing him out to the point where he had returned to old drinking habits. Wally wasn't alive for those days, but Barry heard he had been borderline alcoholic. When they confronted him, Rudy had confessed with glistening eyes that it was indeed his doing. He didn't resist arrest, and for that Barry was glad. They would be able to get him the help he needed, and once he completed rehab, it might be better.

Mary, the poor thing, was actually the more difficult matter. She connected the dots and immediately went to blame Wally. When Barry had insisted that he refused to tell any of them, that they had figured it out themselves, she still remained furious. She hadn't wanted her boy hurt, but she didn't want to see her husband taken from her either. In the end, both agreed that it would be in Wally's best interest to stay with the Allen's for a little longer instead of returning home on Monday- until Mary cooled down enough to realize the blame she wanted to cast was at the wrong person.

Since Rudy confessed, they did not need to see Wally until later, which worked fine with the Uncle, considering he was currently being baby-sat by the city's most infamous group.

Quickly changing into costume, he headed to the slum part of down-town. Eerily consistent with when Mr. West was officially processed, less than an hour later some latitude and longitude coordinates were sent to him via Kid Flash's communicator. He raced around the city until he found his spot- some of the worst apartments still available to purchase in the city. Zooming in until he came to a stop at number _8_, he quickly knocked and felt ridiculous waiting.

There was some shuffling from the other side, but a few minutes later he was facing a rather tired looking Len Snart.

"Sam and Mark already hit the hay." He said by way of greeting, turning and casually placing his ice gun back on the table. Eye brow raised, Flash walked into the… well, relatively mundane apartment. There were water stains on the ceiling and walls, and the place hadn't seen a woman's touch in _years, _at least, but it over all looked normal. He briefly wondered if anyone else was disappointed that their villains didn't have themed layers.

"Kid Flash? How is he?" Flash kept pace with the man, who was rather sluggish and clearly tired.

Len rubbed his face, trying to look less scruffy and failing. "Put him with the other two. James wore him out pretty quickly, so he'll probably sleep like the dead till morning." And god, if it wasn't surreal hearing your villain talk about your partner like a family friend over for a slumber party, Barry didn't know what was.

They walked through a hallway until they reached the end room, where Len stepped aside and let Barry through.

While Wally was now (in his mind) a mature 15, the sight that greeted his mentor was purely adorable. It looked like Hartely had at some point been pulled into the fiasco, and was snuggled down to the left of the two. He had grabbed an extra blanket to cover him and Wally, since it looked like James had cuddled into the initial one at some point and cocooned himself like that. Wally lay in the middle, turned away from James as a probable result of trying to encourage the slightly mental adult to stop talking and let them sleep. James, whenever he had fallen asleep, had purposefully clung to Wally, but the speedster had gradually worked his way out of the hold in his sleep.

Combined with the occasional splash of glitter and the two Rogues still clutching their video game controllers, it looked like a five-year-old birthday party aftermath. Although the loud snoring was off putting. _Jeeze, who'd of thought James had the lung capacity?_

Barry let out a quiet sigh of relief when he saw his nephew's mask still in place. Thank god the Rogues had some unspoken code that- for whatever reason- kept them on a certain level of professionalism in that regard. He noticed the gloves and boots were missing, but even as he went to ask, Cold was grabbing them from a desk on the far side of the room and demandingly extending them to him.

Carefully, the hero attempted to nudge the sleepy speedster awake, but when it was a no go, ended up just lifting the kid up like he used to before Wally even had powers, holding the boots and gloves on Wally's chest. Almost absently, Cold comes up behind and tucks the other two in so they'll not notice his absence for awhile.

Wordlessly, Len led them back to the front door and opened it for them, walking them to the apartment entrance. "Take good care of him this time, or we won't give him back."

Barry paused, surprised by the gruff care in his nemesis'' tone. Cold, as if realizing it himself, frowned deeper. Flash couldn't help but give a small smile. "Thanks, Len."

"Huh," Len turned away from the door as if the whole situation was frivolous. "Now the hero is thanking the villain- never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, well," Barry walked down the steps, keeping his voice hushed. "No one's saying you aren't a cold crook- make sure I can't find you here by tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

"Getting lenient on us 'cause we did the kid a favor?" Cold's voice sounded decidedly unimpressed.

"No, being gracious because it's the first thing Kid Flash will ask me to do when he wakes up."

* * *

Len stayed at the door for a long time, even after the speedsters had gone. Mark and Digger had already fleshed out a 'pester-chart' for the Rogues who wanted to participate with 'check in' on their baby hero, and while James would gripe through the morning after realizing his friend escaped his clutches, he'd perk up after Sam brought up some of the new tech he was planning to use for a heist. As long as their baby was safe, things would go back to normal.

He trudged back to the apartment and grabbed a beer in one hand and his gun in the other. Groaning, he settled into his seat, somewhat impressed with himself for getting this place fixed up for Flash to pick up his kid from. The real Rogue base was at a different part of town- sans a few pieces of furniture Mirror Master was coaxed to transporting over for the sake of appearances (lamented that they were using him as cheap labor, but gave in after Mark promised the next week's worth of drinks would be on him). In truth, this had been Len's place a long while back. But after forming their crazy family, he hadn't had a reason to come back to the rust bucket.

He never really thought about it before, but he was… glad. Glad this dump didn't mean anything to him, and that the crazy destroyed Rogues hideout did. Taking a swig of his beer, he got back to work on recalibrating his freeze ray. As bizarre as the week had started, enough was enough. They were villains, not turn coats.

And he had a heist on Thursday.

**Soo, whattya think?**

**Before ANY of you can ask for it- no. I will not give you more chapters. This story was center focused on the Rogues protective reaction to when Kid Flash was in need of help. Since the 'abusive-parents' cliché was so temptingly available, I went with that. But I wanted a fluffy/humor Rogues fic, not an angsty/fluffy Wally fic. Hopefully I accomplished that for the most part.**

**But no more. Trust me when I say there are some excellent author's available for the much desired Wally angst, and once you find you will not be disappointed. Feel free to use my favorites list as the start point for your search, should you choose to go that route (I make an effort to be picky about what I favorite, so whatever you find there I guarantee it will be a good read).**

**If its alright to ask- I received way more reviews than I was expecting- and love it! But for those of you who just alerted or favorite but never reviewed before, PLEASE do so with at least a sentence on WHY you paid attention to this fic. It helps me with future writing, and I appreciate any commentary I can get!**

**Thanks again for reading everyone!**


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